


i fell (into you)

by AquaWolfGirl



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, Soulmate AU, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 10:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21073223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaWolfGirl/pseuds/AquaWolfGirl
Summary: Based on a prompt I stumbled upon on Pinterest. Rey visits Poe and Finn in the big city, and of course they take her to the famous cursed statue. The Lonely Hero is rumored to be a man cursed by a sorceress, and the curse will only be broken if his soulmate touches his hand. This of course becomes the perfect photo and video opportunity for people to touch his hand/kiss his cheek/do whatever. It's a silly little legend that has no base of truth to it at all, right? ... right?You can guess what happens from there.





	i fell (into you)

**Author's Note:**

> *Before I posted this, I went to see if someone else had done the prompt. I read a wonderful version by SageMcMae which has a lot of fantastic Italian imagery and history and has Rey as the statue. Go check hers out! (It's seriously beautiful and I love the little details from reality she wove in with our fictional space babes.)*
> 
> I apologize to all of my other WIPs but this was just calling to me. For about a week or so. And I had to get it out somehow. I don't plan on this being a big story if it goes beyond one chapter at all, but it depends on reception. If it flops, oh well, this was super fun to write anyway! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“I can’t believe you live here.” 

Poe shrugs, the nylon of his parka squeaking slightly as he does so. “There are pros and cons. The food? Pro. The traffic? Definitely a con.”

“Still,” Rey says, looking up at all of the tall buildings, the delicate snow falling on the heads of the thousands of people around them. “It’s beautiful.” 

“You say that now,” Poe teases. “C’mon, we’re almost there.” 

Of course it would be Poe who got the hot shot city job of all of them. It makes sense, with his charm and his looks. Finn followed not long after, Rose joining the couple. Turns out, in a big city, there’s a lot that needs to be fixed constantly, and as far as Rey knows, the woman’s been making bank doing odd jobs for both private and corporate properties.

Rey, however, is very happy with her small town, thank you very much. After spending so many years in the desert, she appreciates the beautiful falls, the gorgeous snows, the feeling of being surrounded by people without being completely and utterly overwhelmed with them.

No, the city isn’t for her. But she does appreciate visiting. 

“Just up here,” Poe explains. Rey can see the museum already, with its grand columns and many, many steps. She’s seen influencers take pictures on these steps, in evening gowns and jeans and t-shirts alike. Now, they’re covered in people enjoying cheap hot dogs and overly confident pigeons, though she does see a few girls taking pictures in their black wool coats.

Stepping inside the grand and elegant building, the heat blasts her in the face, as well as the sheer noise. Seems like they’re not the only ones who thought a Thursday would be a good idea to visit the museum. There are a handful of school groups, little kids walking about in their puffy parkas like little penguins, waddling to and fro while they wait for their guide to appear. Rey smiles, following Poe to the coat check.

“Finn’s… somewhere,” Poe explains, looking at his phone. “Service is iffy in here.”

“We’ll find him,” Rey reassures him.

“So you say, this place is giant and mazelike,” Poe mutters, grabbing a map and handing it to her. “For memories sake. I know exactly where I’m going.”

“Mhm,” Rey hums, sarcastic as she raises a brow at him. “All right, fine, give me the grand tour.”

“Happily.”

Opening the map, Rey can see that there are red dots on points of particular interest. A famous oil painting of flowers, some famous portrait, a handful of well-known statues. The name of one catches her eye. “_The Lonely Hero_, I forgot that was here.”

“Ah, yes, the legend,” Poe exclaims as he takes her through one of the archways into some exhibit hall. “They’ve turned it into quite the tourist trap. Good for an Instagram pic, though, if you’re into that." 

“Not really.”

“Could be fun.”

“For you,” Rey teases, taking her eyes off the map just long enough to catch a glimpse of Egyptian artifacts. She turns, looking through the glass at the shelves of bits of hieroglyphs. “What would you do if you were his soulmate?”

“With that body? Everything.” 

“Artistic liberties,” Rey warns, laughing as she peers to look at the descriptions of the artifacts.

They find Finn sitting on a bench surrounded by old statues, their stone bodies chipped after many millennia, but no less beautiful. He smells different, Rey notices, hugging the other man tightly. More distinguished. New cologne, she thinks. Big city smell. His smile is brighter, too. He’s happy here. 

“I love coming here,” he says. “So many things to look at and learn.”

“A little too much sometimes,” Poe replies. “Makes my brain hurt.”

“Where’s Rose?” Rey asks, noticing the lack of adorable, short personified sunshine around them.

“She has a job somewhere on the West side, she’ll be done by dinner, though. Something about something falling in front of a door and keeping it from being opened at all,” Finn explains. 

“Break the door down,” Poe suggests.

“No, Poe,” Finn replies.

Poe shrugs. “It’s a solution.”

Rey rolls her eyes, opening the map again to see where they are. In the Egypt wing, obviously, one of the outer wings. “Should we just walk through everything?”

“Works for me. That’ll kill some time before dinner,” Poe replies.

“Then let’s go.”

Their small town only had one museum, a children's science one. If their teachers wanted to expose the schoolkids to art, it was an hour to the nearest big city. They didn’t go to the museum often due to budgets, but Rey enjoyed those trips. Plutt wasn’t exactly the most encouraging stepfather, and he would have brushed her off if she dared ask to go anywhere, let alone somewhere an hour away. Her last trip to the museum was in high school, and though they didn’t have any fancy famous works, she enjoyed wandering through the still lifes and the portraits, examining what once was.

This museum is overwhelming, truly, with all of its artifacts and art. They weave their way through Egypt, Finn offering some facts about the history as they walk. He’s more into art than Poe is, interested in where he came from and the creativity from there. More than once he goes off about some king, and when Rey turns back around, Poe’s gone. It becomes a scavenger hunt more than a wander through the museum, a game of ‘Where’s Poe?’.

For what it’s worth, it’s pretty damn fun. Especially when Poe catches on to what they’re doing and conceals himself in odd nooks and crannies. Though Rey could do without the jumping out and scaring her. She’s sure that everyone else around them could do without her small yelps, too.

They’re in the Greek section when he disappears once more, leaving Finn and Rey in front of an old jewelry display. Rey admires the delicately hammered gold, the way it’s folded around the pearls to hold them in place. Finn admires with her before he turns his head.

“He’s off again,” he mutters.

“He’s been here a lot,” Rey tries to defend.

“Nah, he just likes messing with us,” Finn explains. “C’mon, let’s find him.”

It’s not that hard to find him. The Greek exhibits are directly next to the statue room, holding statues inspired by antiquity but not directly from the period. There are statues from the 1800s, and from even more modern eras, all of them reminiscent of the delicate marble work and heavy bronze from the Greek and Roman eras.

And in the middle of it all is one of the museum’s main attractions.

“_The Lonely Hero_,” Poe explains, lingering near a modern artist’s take on David from _David and Goliath_. “What a story.”

Rey looks at it, seeing the marble statue in the middle of the room. The museum tried to put ropes around it once upon a time to preserve it, but apparently it cut its visitor numbers by enough that they thought it was better to just leave it. Rey can see girls leaning up on their tiptoes to kiss the cheek of the marble man. His hand, for as many times as it's been held, is still in good shape, probably in part thanks to the museum’s excellent preservation team, and just the massiveness of the man’s fingers and palm. The marble's thick. There are no delicate, dainty fingers here.

The plaque in front of the statue tells the story of the legend, and Rey walks towards it, slipping through the people waiting to get their Instagram opportunity with the statue.

“It’s all bullshit,” Poe says, following her to the plaque. “But it’s fun to believe, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Rey replies, skimming the beginning paragraph.

Though they know it’s not truly from antiquity, there’s a chance it could be from the Renaissance or Baroque period. The artist was never named. 

“Though there are doubts as to where or when the legend originated, stories speak of a hero. His accomplishments unknown, some say he was a demigod, or merely a human whose strength allowed him to accomplish god-like feats,” Finn reads for them. “Many scholars have suggested that the legend combines the stories we know from antiquity, the classical myths, and modern romantic tropes from the likes of Shakespeare and more modern authors from the 1800s.”

Rey looks up at the statue, the man in motion. Whoever sculpted him apparently liked their men big, because he’s broad, and no doubt six feet tall, if not a bit more. As it is, he’s bending over slightly, as though reaching for something, or someone. His hand is outstretched, the perfect opportunity for another to put their hand in his. One long, thick, perfectly carved leg is slightly back, bare foot braced against the marble base. His other hand remains at his side, curled against his bare hip.

Whoever sculpted him also liked their men barely covered, a cloth wrapping around his groin but doing nothing to cover his perfectly sculpted ass. The stone almost shines there, no doubt from people taking lewd pictures with it. 

“The legend explains that, after saving a sorceress from one of her own spells, she became irate and cursed him to stone, so that he may save anyone again and fall into obscurity. Only the touch of his soulmate’s hand will break the curse,” Finn continues. “Millions of people come from all over the globe in an attempt to see if they are the soulmate of _The Lonely Hero._”

“Publicity,” Poe explains. “And, I’ll be honest with you, it works. I’ve touched that hand. And that ass.”

“I’m not surprised,” Rey replies, smirking at her friend. “You say it’s bullshit, but I know you wouldn’t complain if that man fell into your arms.”

“With those muscles and that ass? No, I would not,” Poe replies.

Rey snickers, watching as people come up to take pictures with the statue. It makes her sad, though, that a beautiful story would be turned into such a social media trend. Though the plaque does say that people have been trying for centuries. Still, as she watches men, women, and neither alike come up to the statue to try their chance, it doesn’t seem like they’re actually trying to break the curse, as the legend said. They hold the statue’s outstretched hand, sure, but they’re more focused on the pose, on the light, on the photo opportunity than freeing the poor man from his marble prison. 

It may all be bullshit, sure, but the magic has been replaced by something significantly more selfish.

“I’m going to try again,” Poe says, stepping into the short line.

“For the ass?” Finn asks, raising a dark brow. 

“It’s like the sword in the stone thing, you have to try it just to try it,” Poe explains, grinning. “And yes, for the ass.”

Rey hums, waiting near the plaque as Poe steps up to the statue. He’s not doing it for the likes, she knows, he’s just doing it to be Poe, and so she keeps her phone in her pocket as she watches him gingerly place his hand in the statue’s, like some Victorian waif offering her hand to a suitor. She smiles, watching as Poe’s face falls for dramatic effect before he’s walking around the back side of the statue and touching the smooth, marble right cheek. 

“That was worth it,” Poe says, looking back to the statue. “Ah, well. Third time isn’t the charm.”

“I’ll take your picture if you want to, Rey,” Finn offers.

“No, I think I’m good,” Rey insists, shaking her head.

“C’mon, you’re here in the big city. Gotta do all the touristy things,” Poe says. “Besides, it’s just fun. And he’s pretty.”

She won’t deny that. The artist made him both heroic, and beautiful. As she ignores Poe in favoring of walking around the statue, avoiding the platform where visitors stand, she can see plush lips and gorgeous bone structure, as well as soft-looking waves falling into the man’s eyes. She hums, returning to where Poe and Finn are standing off to the side. “Whoever sculpted him had a thing for pretty men,” she explains. “It’s crazy how lifelike it is.”

“I wish we knew the artist,” Finn laments. “Talent like that deserves to be recognized.”

“The folds of the cloth are incredible. The detail in his hair, too,” Rey explains.

“All right, you two, you’re putting off the inevitable,” Poe says. He holds out his hand. “Rey, phone.”

“I told you, I don’t need a picture.”

“And I’m telling you that if you leave this city without one, you’re going to regret it. Even if it’s just for you, I want you to have a picture. You don’t have to post it anywhere with any hashtags, I promise.”

“Finn first.”

“Sure,” Finn replies, stepping into the line to get his opportunity. Rey stares at him, and he shrugs. “I’ve admired the statue a lot, but I’ve never actually touched his hand.”

“And how long have you been living here?” Poe asks.

“Unlike some, I like to observe the entire piece of art, not just the ass,” Finn teases.

“Ouch, shots fired. Hey, I do think it’s a beautiful piece of art.”

Rey watches as Finn steps up to the statue. He doesn’t do anything cheesy like attempt to lean in for a kiss, or actually kiss the statue’s cheek like she’s seen some people do within the past several minutes of standing by it. Instead, he respectfully puts his hand in the statue’s. The contrast of his dark skin against the marble is beautiful, and Rey can’t help herself. She does end up taking a few pictures, showing them to Poe.

“If you’re going to take a picture with the statue, that’s how you do it,” she explains, showing him the beautiful shot of Finn’s fingers and the statue’s intertwining. 

“That’s good and all, but it’s not fun, you need a fun picture,” Poe insists. “But send that to me.” 

Rey does as asked, waiting for the photo to send in the middle of a stone building as Finn makes his way down from the platform the statue is on. He peers over her shoulder, humming at the picture. “Send that to me too?”

“Trying to send it to both of you,” she mutters, raising her phone in a vain attempt to get a better signal. As soon as she does, though, Poe snatches it from her grip. “Hey!”

“You’ll get it back when there’s a picture of you with the statue on it,” Poe explains. “Go on, get in line.” 

“It’s cliché,” Rey protests.

“It’s cute,” Poe argues.

Rey sighs.

She’ll have to admit, the line moves quickly, a few people taking their time to try different poses but for the most part people just trying their chance, snapping one shot, and then leaving. The closer Rey steps to the statue, it feels like there’s electricity running through her veins. She frowns, rubbing at the hairs on her arm as they stand up. It’s warm in the museum, but she guesses someone could have bumped a thermostat or one of the skylights could be cracked or something. It’s a strange sensation. She’s not quite cold, but there’s heat coming to her cheeks, to her chest.

They hadn't gotten anything to eat this morning, maybe that’s it. She and Poe had rushed to the museum in favor of meeting Finn over grabbing a bite. She’s just hungry, maybe. Or her blood sugar’s low. Something normal. Something ordinary.

She looks down at the wooden steps leading up to the platform, the dark-stained wood turned pale in the middle from so many people stepping up to see if they’re soulmates with the statue. Millions of people, the plaque had said. No doubt they’ve had to replace the steps several times. The wood doesn’t look worn enough to be stepped on by millions. 

To look at the statue from a distance is one thing. To look at it up close is very much another. Before, she could see his lips, his jaw, his hair. But as she steps up to take her turn with the statue, she can see his eyes. It will always be amazing to her just how much emotion stone can convey. Whoever carved him was truly up there with one of the masters. She remembers being in awe of Bernini, of Michaelangelo, of Donatello, back when she took one art history class. They somehow breathed life into stone, and if not for the pure white color of the man before her, she would be almost convinced she could feel his breath upon her cheek, could feel the heat of him near her as he reaches towards her.

Rey turns, seeing Poe holding the phone up like a proud mother at her child's recital. “C’mon, more emotion, give me something here,” the man goads, no doubt just to be annoying.

Rey rolls her eyes – she has the feeling this will be a day of eyerolling – and offers a small smile to the camera as she reaches for the statue’s hand. 

Cool marble meets her touch. Fuck, his hand really is big. Finn’s hand is large as well, which is how they got the great picture of their hands lacing. But to spread her fingers and attempt to lace her hand through the fingers of the statue is to spread her fingers wider than is comfortable, so she settles for just resting her hand in his. 

She waits for Poe to wave her off. She stands there for a few more moments, seeing Poe tilt the phone this way and that to get the best angle. Her cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling.

There’s a moment where the hand feels warm. She wonders if it's because she's been standing there so long, her hand's warmth has warmed the marble. Rey continues smiling at the camera, but Poe’s no longer looking at the phone. Instead he’s staring at her, jaw slack. She looks to Finn, and sees he has the same exact expression. 

“What?” she calls, just as the fingers curl around her hand.

Her own eyes widen as she turns just in time to feel the weight of a very broad, very muscled, very heavy man come down against her. Stumbling, she tries in vain to keep them both upright, grabbing at smooth, bare, _warm _skin. It’s instinct, really, the same thing she would do if someone were to bump and fall into her on the sidewalk. But her mind is blanking as she stares up into the amber eyes of the man who was marble not thirty seconds before. 

Vaguely, she can hear shouts. She can hear exclamations in different languages, can hear people yelling about pictures, about videos, about calling for security. But in the moment, all she can see is the man in her arms, can feel his hand still in hers, holding so tightly she swears she feels the bones in her hand grinding together. But the pain doesn’t register through the shock.

He’s… beautiful, really. Those plush lips look even more sinful in color, his eyes wide with surprise, mirroring hers as he continues to cling to her. She can feel the press of his body against hers, hot and hard through her sweater and jeans. His hair is dark, silky-looking, that same damn bone structure making her breath catch in her throat as they stay pressed together, too surprised to do much but stare at each other.

In all of the chaos that’s ensuing around them, she’s pretty sure she hears Poe's voice above everything else. 

"Well, shit."


End file.
